Train Station
by Ichihime
Summary: It's been ten years. One conversation. Six in the morning. Has the past and the present moved too far away from each other to ever be reconcilable? Alex needs to know. Oneshot.


**Train Station**

A train whizzes past the window as Alex lifts the caffeine-smelling cup to his lips and drains a good half of it. It burns his throat as it goes down but Alex can't find it in himself to care.

He needs the coffee; he's tired and anxious for the meeting. Black coffee should wake him up and his then clear mind should be able to convince himself that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what someone he once knew thinks of him.

But it kind of does.

Alex knows it's not rational, he knows they're nothing but strangers now. They shouldn't be anything but strangers now with something like a decade between them.

It's not the truth; that boy, now turned into a man, is still important to him. Even if the last time they saw each other was in the school yard.

The coffee doesn't really help, and Alex honestly didn't expect it to. He's more awake now, but little has changed. Emotionally he's nervous and still not quite certain of what he's doing there in that little coffee shop at the train station six o'clock in the morning.

It's not really absurd; he's had earlier meetings than this and at stranger places. He can still remember that one meeting with a fifty year old female agent in a sex shop, three o'clock in the morning in Moscow. He's not quite sure if anything can ever top that, especially not considering the lady's hot pink dress and green boa. He's been trying to forget the kiss she gave him for years. If anything has ever been absurd that certainly was it.

He's not really there to reminisce about his past either. He's too old for that. Or perhaps it's too young. The past never stays buried, Alex knows that, but he'd really rather let old ghosts lie in peace. He doesn't need to think back. He doesn't need the memories clouding his mind. It happens often enough during the night. This is now, not then.

What Alex Rider needs is to see what became of a single piece of that past that he cherished. He needs to see what happened to this one part of his past, he needs to see the future of the past. He needs to see that something could have grown out of it and not have become twisted.

If there is one thing Alex regrets it is how he had to let go of all of his former relationships the moment he finally decided to step into that world and stay. And now he wants to see what happened. Alex doesn't want to reconnect, he only seeks knowledge. But somehow his desire doesn't end there.

Alex doesn't quite know when it became an emotional matter. He knows he's changed drastically. If it weren't for his looks no one from his past would recognize him. His old friend only recognized him by accident when they ran into each other on the street and had it end up in a six o'clock morning meeting. There is one thing Alex wants above all in all of this and that is to be accepted.

Tom Harris has something few of Alex Rider's enemies has ever had over him; the power of words. Tom can break Alex if he wants to. A word of rejection and Alex is broken. A word of acceptance and Alex is renewed. That's the way he sees it, even if he doesn't always allow himself to think it.

It shouldn't be this way.

"Hi…"

Alex is broken out of his thoughts as his old friend steps up to his table and sits down, setting down a brown business suitcase by his chair.

"Tom."

His old friend is in a modern gray suit and obviously a successful businessman. Not quite what Alex had expected of Tom.

"I don't have long. My train leaves soon and I really can't afford to miss it."

It's a quick and clever way of getting out of a conversation that Tom has obviously set up; a quick escape and likely the reason why they're meeting at six o'clock. Alex doesn't mind.

He would have done the same if given the chance.

"That's fine, Tom," Alex says and smiles a smile that he's not sure if is artificial or not. It's been a while. It looks real, according to his colleagues, so it doesn't matter. Tom won't see the difference. "It's good to see you. It's been a while."

"Yes. It certainly has been. You're looking good, Alex."

Tom sounds surprised. Alex can understand why. It certainly looked like he was doomed to die from Tom's point of view ten years ago. Tom couldn't deal so he left. And Alex found it convenient and let him.

Alex understands it, accepts it even. He didn't like his life either at that time. Tom had good reason to leave and Alex has little reason to be resentful.

"I've been on holiday for a while. It's good to just be able to relax and not have anything to do. It's been good for me, really."

And it has been, kind of. Which is why Alex isn't sleeping during the night, why he naps fitfully in the afternoon and spends his days training in some way or another. He's usually up by four for his morning jog.

But his body looks healthy at least. He blends in with a crowd easily now. He didn't before. There's a good reason for his holiday. MI6 has finally discovered that even Alex Rider exhibits human traits.

He's not invincible.

Both Alex and MI6 had to learn that particular lesson.

"Looks it a least," Tom says somewhat cheerfully before he quiets down a bit while he glances away. "So, you're still working for them?"

"Of course," Alex states, in a matter of fact manner. "It's the kind of work I do best. The pay isn't bad and I travel a lot. It keeps me busy."

"I see," Tom says and sounds grown up.

There's an awkward pause where no one quite knows what to say.

"What are you doing nowadays?" Alex finally asks and tries to turn the conversation to his friend.

"Oh, I finished my law degree. I work with cases relating to child abuse, mostly. It's been some interesting years. I've got a house now, outside of London, with my family."

"Family?" Alex almost croaks. He drains his black coffee quickly, but not too quickly. Better not look suspicious.

"Oh yes."

Tom smiles, it's almost a grin, and pulls out his wallet from a pocket. He opens it and turns it towards Alex.

Alex takes in the picture of a loving family. Tom the father standing with the mother of the family in an apple garden. In front of them are two pre-school aged boys, obviously twins, and in the mother's hands there's a baby. They look happy.

"That's Jane, my wife," Tom says and points. "The twins are four and named Jeremiah and Timothy, and my daughter, Jackie, just turned one. We just recently took the picture while on holiday to France. The boys loved it and Jackie's become much quieter during the night. You don't know how relieved I am. I was just about to start wearing ear plugs. Of course, Jane wouldn't have had any of it, but still." Tom smiles softly as he gazes at his wife and his family.

Alex doesn't quite know whether to laugh or cry. It's become awkward again.

"So, you..." Tom tries.

"It looks like you're happy."

"I am. I've settled down and life's good. So, no one new then?"

"No. After Kim," Alex pulls himself together firmly, "I'm not letting anyone go through that again."

She'd begged for him to kill her; he couldn't not grant her that last mercy.

"You need to open up again one day, Alex," Tom says with far too much wisdom in his eyes. "You can't go through life alone. You deserve someone. You shouldn't stay lonely because of concern for others. You need to find someone."

"But not yet."

"You're not fine at all, are you, Alex?" Tom asks quietly.

"You don't need to worry about me, Tom. I'll be fine. I always am."

A red train passes the window quickly and Alex can virtually see Tom struggling between acknowledging the obvious lie or living on in blessed ignorance. Alex knows what he'll choose. It's what they always choose.

Tom spends a few seconds carefully scrutinizing him and Alex stays quiet and lets him.

"Yes, I suppose you will be."

Alex has to admit that he rather prefers for Tom to go back to his wonderful life without him dragging Tom down. Tom deserves that. Tom deserves that family and that careless life. Alex would just ruin everything.

The half-way acceptance of himself that he sees in Tom's eyes is based on an illusion. It's not real nor will it ever be. It's not the real Alex Rider sitting there. Just another mask.

But Tom seems happy. Let him have that happiness.

It will hurt no one.

"Ah, look at the time," Tom suddenly says. "I need to catch my train."

Alex nods and smiles.

"It was nice seeing you."

"Always a pleasure, Tom." Alex says. "Give me a call when you're around next and I'll see if we can meet up."

"Of course, Alex. I really need to run now," Tom says and picks up his suitcase. "Bye, Alex."

And Tom leaves, half running. Alex sees him disappear around a corner.

Tom won't call to see him. Even if he does, Alex doubts he'll be around to take the call.

It's better if Tom forgets about him. Things have just changed too much.

Alex sighs and stretches on his chair. He casually pats his thigh where a small gun is skilfully hidden, just for reassurance, and walks up to the front to get a new cup of coffee. He brings it back to his table and sits down to watch the window.

Outside, another train leaves and whizzes past.


End file.
